


Devil Might Care

by Kissa



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Agender Character, First Time, Het, Multi, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), satan is helpful because he loves Bucky and Steve, satan is in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 11:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7101739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kissa/pseuds/Kissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky get an unlikely ally. Because, while Steve may be the only one in the world believing Bucky is innocent and deserves to be rescued, someone else is ready to sacrifice a few things to right a series of cosmic wrongs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devil Might Care

**Author's Note:**

> Umm, so this story is sort of AU?  
> It sticks to the Civil War events and adds another player.  
> I write Stucky while keeping in mind that in my view, Steve is demisexual and biromantic and the love he has for Bucky is only hard to understand if you think that meaningful relationships are only those also involving sex.  
> I know this story turned out bonkers af, but I just needed some closure so fucking badly after the MCU put Bucky through several flavours of hell and still didn't give him a moment's rest or the chance to enjoy being reunited with Steve. I also can't find any forgiveness for Tony Stark because he fucking wanted to execute an unarmed and wounded Bucky.  
> The Romanian in the story is all mine, considering I AM Romanian. Weirdness is also mine.

I’m the Devil and lately I’ve had a bleeding heart for Bucky Barnes.  
  
Sometimes I like to eavesdrop on people’s prayers and sometimes I like to make an appearance, give them a sign or a hint, because a few of these mortals aren’t completely lost causes. Most mortals become customers for my factory, but there are a select few who shine so brightly and are so pure that they deserve to be bathed in God’s grace.  
  
Only trouble is, God has been MIA for a while and left me in charge of the shop, telling me not to abuse the rules too much.  
  
Bucky Barnes doesn’t pray, because deep down he believes he doesn’t deserve to be saved or forgiven.  
  
But halfway across the world, Steve Rogers does pray and quite persistently so. Enough to make me remember the scrawny youth two lifetimes ago who was praying for the exact same thing. Enough to persuade me to get off my ass and look into it.  
_  
_ _Please make sure Bucky is safe wherever he is; that he has a warm place to sleep, food to eat and maybe even a friend. Please don’t let anyone get to him before I do. Please help him remember his home and send him healing and forgiveness because he’ll have none for himself._

I show myself to him in the “bearably daunting” look we all used back in biblical times when we used to appear to mortals more often. Standing before him in rich gold and purple robes, with gold armour and wings strewn with eyes, I take a step forward, drawing his attention. Steve raises his eyes and fear courses through him, but he quickly reins it in.

  
“Who are you? This is a church, I won’t fight you here!” He says.  
  
“Do not be afraid. I am an angel and I came here to tell you your prayers have been heard.”  
  
An angel, yes. I neglected to tell him which one, because I doubted Steve Rogers would trust the villain from his childhood bible study books. I wouldn’t have to lie if the humans of old hadn’t implemented such an effective smear campaign.  
  
“Bucky Barnes is under my protection now, and you will have him in your arms soon if you prove your faith.”  
  
“Anything!” Steve said, eyeing my lance that was four times his height.  
  
“I won’t ask for your blood or any other sacrifice, that is so Old Testament. Instead I ask for something much harder: your patience. You will wait for a sign from me before going after your friend. And you’ll agree to wear my mark until both of you are safe.”  
  
When Steve nodded and bowed his head, I put a careful finger beneath his chin and guided it up so he’d look at me. Then with my other hand, I pressed two fingers to the center of his chest, leaving my mark on him. I knew it burns and hurts for the mortals, but Steve didn’t even flinch.  
  
“Remember. Wait for my sign,” I said and vanished in a burst of light.

  
  
  
***

  
  
I followed Bucky for a while, hiding in the random shadow lingering in the corner, the flicker of the neon tube right before it’s switched off, the drip-drip-drip of the old sink in the kitchen.  
  
I wandered on the dark sideroads of his nightmares and learned his story as it played itself before my eyes over and over. And in the midst of all that darkness, there was only one bright point, far away and weak, but ever present. Steve.  
  
“Reach,” I whispered in his ear as he slept.  
  
Not long passed since my apparition before Steve Rogers, but already something had happened that I had never factored in.  
  
I developed an all-consuming desire for Bucky Barnes.  
  
I wanted him like I never wanted any mortal before him, and trust me when I say I have seen them ALL.  
  
It occurred to me as I watched him cook a modest potato soup from a recipe he had found on a newspaper that someone had used as a cone bag for fruit. This man who had killed for justice and who had killed for others, this small man who was constantly wrangling a huge dark abyss gnawing at him from inside… just wanted to cook and eat his salted caramel strips and not sleep with a gun under his pillow for a change.  
  
I wanted to give him everything, I was even ready to break a few rules. I was ready to do more than that. I wanted to see Bucky Barnes smile; I wanted to see him laugh out loud and I wanted to be the cause of it.  
  
I went back to Hell for some planning and I left Kirikiel, my lieutenant, in charge of the shop.  
  
And while I was there, I dropped by Death’s office and deleted Bucky Barnes’ and Steve Rogers’ names from her book.

  
  
***

  
  
Bucky was returning home from the market, a small plastic bag of plums in his right hand and a sack of cat food under his other arm.  
  
His apartment had a small ledge that extended towards the next building and stray cats used to come there to sleep, so he had begun putting water and food out for them. The plums were for him, because they helped, they were in season and they carried within them the smell of carefree summers spent barefoot in an orchard, picking fruit and having no care in the world.  
  
From a distance, he saw a woman heading for the same building entrance. Tall, almost as tall as him, wearing ranger boots, galaxy print leggings and an oversized hoodie and carrying a bag of some baked goods. As he approached, the scent of fresh, hot Bucharest pretzels hit him and he almost lunged at her to rob her of her treasure. Instead he just smiled, muttered a greeting and scrambled to hold the door, but it turned out to be more difficult than he’d imagined, given the fact that both his hands were busy.  
  
From up close, the “woman” turned out to be a girl who quickly opened the heavy door to the building and held it for him with a smile. She then followed him up the stairs all the way to the 8th floor where he lived.  
  
As they went up the many stairs, Bucky could only focus on the tempting smell of the pretzels, although he had to wonder if perhaps she was following him.  
  
She rang the doorbell on the apartment next to his and she was let in by Bucky’s neighbour, a grumpy old lady with a Pekinese who loved to shit on Bucky’s doormat.  
  
Relieved that he got to keep his simple life for one more day, he put the bag of plums on the kitchen table and went to put some cat food out.  
  
When he returned, his doorbell rang as soon as he had washed his hands. Bucky considered getting his gun, but he heard a voice from behind the door that dissuaded him.  
  
“Eu sunt, vecina de alături. Poți să-mi deschizi un borcan cu murături, că tot ești bărbat?”/ “It’s me, your neighbour. You’re a man, can you open a pickle jar for me?” The old lady asked him through the door.  
  
“Mamaie, ce naiba, pot și eu să deschid un borcan, futu-i borcanul mă-sii. Deranjăm vecinii chiar pentru orice?!” / “Grandma, I can open a motherfucking jar! Are we really disturbing our neighbours for everything?”  
  
”Lasă, lasă, că de-aia a dat statul bărbați, să se facă utili. Stai să-l vezi pe ăsta ce bunoc îi. Poate vă fac lipeala.” / “Forget about it, this is why the state gave us men, so they can be useful. You should see this one, he’s a hottie, I’m trying to set you up.” The older woman whispered to her granddaughter, but not softly enough for Bucky’s well trained ears to not pick it up.  
  
With a smile, he opened the door and greeted the two women, then deftly popped the lid on the jar he was presented with. The grandma fucked off with her prey, leaving her granddaughter and Bucky alone in the hallway.  
  
“Sorry for that. Sorry for Puchi shitting on your mat every week, too. Don’t go anywhere, I think you deserve a reward,” she said and dashed off back after her grandma, returning just as quickly with the bag of pretzels. “Here, you can have them. I saw you eating them with your eyes, you must have craved some. They are all yours if you want, the old bird said she only eats the Turkish ones with seeds and sugar syrup.”  
  
Bucky really wanted those pretzels, but what if they were laced with something dodgy?  
  
And why was SHE speaking English to him? He pulled her into his home and closed the door behind them.

“Relax, they are not spiked… here, I’ll eat some. Look, I know who you are. I have internet.” She said. “It’s cool. You’re not harming anyone, it’s fine. I won’t tell anyone. I could have, before… I figured it out long before today.” 

  
“How come?” Bucky asked. Was he getting so careless that teenage girls could see through his covers?  
  
“Well, easy… Your alias.” She said.  
  
“What tipped you off?” He asked.  
  
“Iacov Pușcașu? Really? “James Sniper”?” She said, laughing and looking around, but not intruding.  
  
“That has got to be the farthest reach ever… I haven’t been James, or just a sniper, in over seventy years.”  
  
“Yeah but I do read, and I notice things of interest. Like for instance, the fact that the media stuff smearing you for the UN bombings all came from one source, based on that shitty photo that was clearly staged. No way in hell would the Winter Soldier wear a Bench hoodie and look like a zucchini in a condom. Plus whoever it was, their prosthetic face was wonky. I see this shit because I study stage design.”  
  
Bucky took the time to catalogue every information her look provided. This time he was in no rush.  
  
She had short dark blond hair with a side parting, blue eyes and red, plump lips that seemed to always pout, except when she smiled, which was very often. She wore perfume, something expensive smelling like peonies and tropical fruit on her freshly showered skin. Her English was suspiciously accent-free, and judging by her patterns and choice of words, Bucky deduced she had probably taught herself English from movies and TV.  
  
“You know my name, how about you told be yours? It’s only fair.” Bucky said, taking a pretzel and starting to eat it, barely suppressing a moan. Bucharest pretzels were **_the shit_ ** .  
  
“It’s Domnica. Don’t laugh. My mom didn’t really like me as a baby.”  
  
“Domnica,” Bucky repeated. “It’s a nice name. What’s so awful about it?”  
  
“It’s an old kingly name, that guaranteed me a lifetime of isolation in school. Everyone else is called something cool and with a Western flair, like Cindy or Jasmin or Chris. I don’t even have a cool stage name like you.”  
  
“I don’t have a “cool stage name”, Domnica, I have a criminal alias. I’d do anything to lose it.” Bucky said.  
  
“I meant “Bucky”, not… the other part. It doesn’t even make sense. Winter Soldier? What, that’s for the cold months and then when it’s summer, they strip you down to a speedo and flip-flops and bam, Summer Soldier?” She said, shrugging. “Sorry. I don’t mean it in a bad way, I am not mocking you… it’s just that Hydra are completely ridiculous and obsolete and they should just go away. Humans today are perfectly capable of fucking themselves up with no outside assistance.”  
  
After a short silence, in which only the rustling of the brown bag and Bucky’s small pleased sounds could be heard, Domnica spoke again.  
  
“Bucky? Tell me this one thing,” she began, getting up from her seat and coming to lean on the table really close to him, in his personal space.  
  
Bucky was tempted to tell her it’s Mr. Barnes to her, but for some reason the more time she spent in the room with him, the closer she got, the harder it was to concentrate. He recognized the situation all too late as arousal. He hadn’t willingly been with someone since the night he had shipped out to England with the 107th. And now this… girl was in his space, so close, filling his filthy apartment with her delicious smell and her androgynous, sultry voice and he was supposed not to notice and to focus on her question!  
  
“What is it you desire the most? Imagine, there were no limits to what you could ask.” She finished her question.  
  
He raised his eyes to look at her.  
  
“Does it even need answering? I want the Winter Soldier gone for good. I want to be allowed to live, and maybe have Steve around while it still matters. It seems so fucked up that fate made sure we both made it to the future only for one of us to blow up the other.”  
  
“Maybe there’s some nice things in store for you as well,” Domnica said, moving away the slightest bit and taking her phone. “I’m supposed to housesit this weekend, the house is super luxurious. Wanna come along? Food, drinks and entertainment are on me. The house has a jacuzzi tub, just think about that.”  
  
Bucky did think about it, specifically if he wanted to risk his life for a bubble bath, and the answer was a tired yes. He had never really known “comfortable” in his life, whether it had been a cold home in his childhood, not enough food while growing up, hard physical labour while he was still a growing teen, damp or frozen trenches in the war, torture at the hands of Hydra…  
  
He also became aware of the fact that going to that house would mean a lot of time alone with Domnica and he wasn’t sure if the trepidation he felt was excitement or a panic response. But again, she had not established herself as a threat and the only concern that was left was how utterly young she looked, because Bucky did not want to look at an actual child with desire.  
  
“It’ll be fine, no one’s going to come after us. I’m a grown-ass person, I drive my own car, which is why the owners of the house trusted me in the first place.”  
  
Bucky could now relax about her age, and he remembered with sadness that he himself had been only twenty-seven when the war had claimed him, and while his body had been kept youthful thanks to cryo-stasis, the decades of training, torture and fighting had left marks, hideous marks on him, which made it easy to forget just how young he actually was.

“It doesn’t have to get naughty if you’re not feeling it. I just thought you might like the pamper treatment.” Domnica added.  
  
“You sure waste no time,” Bucky gave back, shrugging. It was all the same. He didn’t even know whether to be excited about the bubble bath or not.

“You’re not really used to feeling good, are you?” She asked, opening her hoodie and throwing it somewhere in the hallway. 

  
She was left in a white tank top and a sports bra and when Bucky raised his eyes to take the sight of her in, his mind came to a startling conclusion.  
  
_She looks way too much like Steve, why does she look like Steve, this is not fair._ _  
_  
She was lean and muscular, more so than the average woman, but she looked strong and it suited her, the mass very nicely distributed across her height. Bucky liked what he saw.  
  
He worried when she closed the distance between them again and he tensed when she went to stand behind him, putting her hands at the base of his neck and kneading lightly.  
  
As the Winter Soldier, he had been trained to submit to his handlers in every way and to let them do whatever they wanted to him. As Bucky, he still remembered all of that and it filled him with unending disgust for himself. He felt as though the whole world had helped themselves to a piece of him, leaving him with nothing. His body often felt foreign to him and he had to make a conscious effort to connect with it and make it do what he needed it to do.  
But Domnica’s touches felt good and her hands had landed on the one spot on him where all his tension got stored.  
  
“Just tell me what you’re doing.” He said, letting his head hang forward a bit more.  
  
“But you’ll… nevermind, I understand.” She said and considerately massaged his shoulders until she felt a change in his posture and his breathing relax. “I’m sorry I’m so awkward. I’m not good with people. I just saw you and had to do something. To give back-”  
  
“I don’t need pity, Domnica. Nor do I deserve it.”  
  
She opened her mouth to counter him, but she changed her mind and started again.  
  
“Not pity. Fairness.” She gestured. “They’re out there, many, powerful and building a strong front. Their greed and hunger for power knows no bounds. I would gladly open each one of them like potato skins and feast on their warm insides. But how would that help you? Not one smidge. So if you’ll let me, I’ll show you the world. And let you stop and savour anything you want.”  
  
“Wow,” Bucky said. “You’re intense for someone so young.”  
  
“I’m not even that young, Bucky. You were young, breaking your back at the docks at seventeen. I only got a job last summer, to have money to go to festivals and to buy a car. I’m old as balls, Bucky.”  
  
Bucky laughed softly. Times were different. People made do with whatever cards were dealt to them. Domnica was no exception, and she had a corrosive sense of humour, mainly aimed at herself. Another Steve trait he’d grown to love in his friend a long time ago and which now came back to him.  
  
Something about her was so awkward and something else was so right. It was the same feeling he had had upon first meeting his ghostly ill and diminutive neighbour Steve.  
  
He was telling himself not to get involved, not to feel, because everything he touched ended up dying. But the more he felt, the more distance he was putting between himself and the dreaded Winter Soldier. With every smile, every soft-spoken word, every woman, young or old, melting at his old school manners and gentle voice, he was gaining Bucky and losing the Asset. Hurting was preferable to never feeling, Bucky thought.  
  
Domnica was currently peeping into his cupboards.  
  
“Holy shit, Bucky. You need nutrients, proper food. Protein and good carbs, to help you heal and to fuel your brain.”  
  
“I’m doing my best. I don’t have much money and I can’t… I can’t eat dead things anymore. I won’t. So I try to cook… eat what little is available without dead stuff in it.”    
  
She stopped in her inventory of his pantry items and fixed him with eyes so deep and sparkling, Bucky felt mesmerized and without escape. He held her gaze and soon felt a pleasant warmth rise inside him and filling him to the last borders of his being. It was like a stream of light enveloping him and cradling him, mending him from within. Soon, it got almost too much to bear and he felt his heart swell.  
  
“Fii binecuvântat, Bucky Barnes,” / “Be blessed, Bucky Barnes,” Domnica said, breaking their eye contact and ending the pleasant feeling that Bucky had been enveloped in.  
  
It was a strange phrasing, and an odd timing. Bucky had always been suspicious of religion. But there was a sentiment behind the Romanian words that no other language attached to that phrase. And if his cultural immersion training wasn’t failing him, he remembered that only angels, Jesus and a handful of saints could really give blessings. But Domnica was young and she most likely didn’t know any of that. She had probably just expressed a wish for him to be safe.  
  
“Come to my place for dinner, I will cook you something delicious and suffering-free.” She said, grabbing her hoodie.  
  
“Now?”  
  
“Yes, now. This is Bucharest, it’ll take us a while to get across the Center.”  
  
She said goodbye to her grandma, who winked dirtily at her and then smiled a knowing smile at Bucky too as he locked his door.  
  
Domnica led Bucky to her car, a flashy blue Sandero Stepway, and they got in, driving to her place in the center, not far from the Government building, in an area with pre-war era houses that still stood, having escaped the communists’  bulldozers and dynamite charges.  
  
“This is it, my place. Please don’t be scared, we have a lot of cats and they are friendly.” She said as she let him into the small yard.  
  
He already liked it here, a lot more than his building, because there was zero concrete or asbestos in sight. The house was made of brick, the path across the yard was tiled with ceramic and the rest of the surface was just clover, grass and flowers. In the back of the yard, there were a few fruit trees full of ripe plums, cherries and apricots.  
  
“Help yourself to fruit, if you want.” She said and unlocked the house door.  
  
Cats began indeed to show up on the roof, peeping down, eager to see who had arrived, who the new guy was and if they could extort some treats out of him.  
  
Bucky soon found himself surrounded by six furry creatures, all competing for the privilege of getting to rub against his shins.  
  
Domnica brought a bag of treats from inside and gave it to him. “Don’t give them all the treats, please. They need to drink loads of water to make up for these crunchy things.”  
  
She left the kitchen door open and she began preparing dinner, peeling and cutting summer veggies and throwing them in a big oven pot with garlic, herbs and spices for a mouthwatering _ghiveci_.

When everything was in the oven, she came outside with two glasses and a bottle of bubbly. The alcohol content was next to none, but the drink was pink and fruity and it was new to Bucky so he did not object to sampling it. He loved it. 

  
“So what are you getting out of this? Cozying up to the world’s most wanted criminal, giving me stuff, driving me around… you’re going to get killed very soon. Everyone around me ends up dying or getting taken away.”  
  
“Well I’m not everyone,” Domnica said. “And Bucky, not everything in the world has to be a fucking transaction. I know most things are, but I have the luxury of choosing when and what to give, and I do it simply because I can. Also, you are not the Winter Soldier. One day very soon, everyone will see that.”  
  
Bucky went quiet for a few moments, watching her in quiet awe. This century’s young generation was so fearless and defiant, perhaps sometimes crossing the line into cockiness, but that was good, damn good, because a nation of blind followers was the stepping stone to institutionalized terror and totalitarian rule. And he, more than anyone else, knew how that story played out.  
  
“What do you think about Steve and me?” He then asked, following her into the kitchen when she went to check on the food.

“I think that you are each other’s home and you belong together. I will fight anyone who insists otherwise.”  
  
She looked like she wanted to add something else, but then she looked away and Bucky had to declare himself happy with the answer. He could not recall a time when he had not loved Steve, when he had not chosen Steve over everything else, except when he was on Hydra’s strings. And even then, the memory of Steve had pierced through the layers of ice and pain. He was aware of the rumours that Captain Rogers had it bad for his Howling Commandos second-in-command, he had read the disrespectful, slanderous headlines implying or downright stating that what they had was a filthy, unhealthy and immoral fixation for each other because many people out there liked to project their disgusting fetishes onto strangers and then judge them harshly. That was not Bucky’s trash to take out.

He knew how he felt for Steve and he’d made it clear as daylight time and time again. It was enough that Steve knew and responded in kind. It was enough to know that whatever pain he was being dealt, it meant that Steve was spared and that thought alone had carried Bucky through hell, several times. 

  
“Come, let’s eat, dinner is ready,” she beckoned and set the table, serving some of the delicious veggie dish with some fresh rye bread she got out of a cupboard.  
  
Bucky thanked her and devoured his first portion, only then realizing how starved for real food he had been. She happily refilled his plate and finished her serving.  
  
“How about a shopping break? I’d really love to see you in some choice outfits…” She suggested and he nodded. If she wanted to blow all her money on him and insisted she got off on it, he could not argue. Besides, he did not have the energy to, anymore. At this point, Domnica was the best thing that had happened to him in the past two years and he intended to make the most out of their paths crossing.  
  
They walked to Calea Dorobanților and to the luxury stores there. Bucky was afraid that they would not be allowed in because of how he was dressed, or worse, that someone would call the police on them, but Domnica seemed to know everyone and because people were friendly to her, he got the same treatment. She showed him to a dressing booth, bringing him soft, light blue jeans that felt heavenly on his skin, a couple of white henleys and some t-shirts with nice designs on the front.  
  
She kept everything, throwing a fake leather jacket with a punk-rock flair, some really beautiful boots, some underwear and accessories on top, including a couple of sun shade pairs and some nice bracelets, rings and necklaces.  
  
Bucky didn’t recognize himself in the dressing room mirror, especially when Domnica slipped in there with him and showed him how to put his hair up in a bun, taking a strand out to soften the look.  
  
“Do you like what you see?” She asked.  
  
Bucky nodded. “Thank you. This is a first for me.”  
  
She nodded back and she slipped her hand in his flesh hand, using her other to caress his forearm. “I can imagine.”    
  
Bucky had probably never had a full outfit made of all new things before.  
  
“You are a treasure, Bucky Barnes. You deserve the whole world.” She whispered at his reflection in the mirror, resting her head against his, their temples touching. “Keep these on. I’m going out to pay, and you can come by so the girls can cut off the labels.”  
  
They returned to Domnica’s place and, on the way there, she saw a poster on a wall advertising a dance party in one of the nearby clubs.  
  
“I know it’s soon, but I think we should go.” She said. “You need to shake it, like so badly.”  
  
Bucky sighed. She was right, he hadn’t gone dancing since before leaving for England during the war.  
  
“Is it safe, though?” He asked.  
  
“The club is dark and everyone comes there to grind and to hook up, it’s not exactly crawling with secret services. Just don’t accept any drinks, food or pills from anyone, stay close to me and we should be fine.”  
  
Bucky nodded. Those were sensible measures, but it was sad that people had to be on the lookout for predators every step of the way, even in situations designed for letting go and unwinding.  
  
“What should I wear?” He asked her, doing a turn and taking off his jacket, so he was left in light blue jeans, the new boots, a white t-shirt with a view of Brooklyn printed on the front and a thick, yet still delicate gold bracelet and three rings. “Will you take me along like this? I do want to shower first though.”

“Sure, let me show you where everything is. There’s time for a bath too, you know. I don’t have a separate shower cabin anyway, it’s just a nozzle above the tub.” She said. “Follow me.”  
  
In the bathroom, she showed him which were the bath products, which was the foam and which was the shampoo. Then she pointed to a basket of Lush products.  
  
“Use these too… they are super nice. See, this is a bath bomb, you drop it into the bathwater and it explodes in…”  
  
Bucky raised an eyebrow at her.  
  
“I do know a bit how bombs work. But why would I want to drop one on myself?”  
  
She looked at him, he looked at her and they both started laughing softly.  
  
Domnica opened the wrapping of an “Intergalactic” and let Bucky sniff it. “This is why. It also makes the bathwater turn nice colours.”  
  
She made to leave, but Bucky reached for her with the metal arm and stopped her. “Stay, please. A bath sounds good, but I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts.”  
  
Domnica nodded and she stayed, pulling the small 2-step ladder from the corner as a chair. She looked away when Bucky began to undress with military efficiency.  
  
“You can look, you know. Know the goods before you buy.” He said.  
  
“Please stop referring to yourself like that. I’m not looking precisely because I already like what I see.” She gave back.  
  
Bucky turned and switched the water on, plugging the tub and choosing a foaming gel to add to the water.  
  
“What’s your favourite scent?” He asked.  
  
“Peonies. The pink tube there. For the face, the mango gel. And the banana shampoo and conditioner for the hair.”  
  
He picked the products out from the dauntingly large selection on the shelves and set them near the tub, drizzling some of the foaming gel into the tub, then continuing to undress and sitting into the tub, letting the water fill the tub around him. Soon, the tub was full and an even layer of foam had formed.  
  
“May I wash your hair?” Domnica asked, and when Bucky nodded, accompanying his gesture with a very delighted small moan, she went to kneel behind him, taking some shampoo in her hand and adding some water, making a lather and starting to massage it into Bucky’s hair, gently rubbing the scalp.

“Don’t you want to join me? This feels so good and… there’s room for us both here. It is your bathroom after all.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Domnica asked, a smile audible in her voice.  
  
“Very. Here, I won’t even look when you get in.”  
  
“Oh you can look. I work so hard on this body, it’s for showing.” She said, amused, then quickly got rid of her few clothes and got into the tub.  
  
Bucky still didn’t look, fully aware that the water would get drained from around them at some point and then he would get to look his fill.    
  
She sat opposite him and quickly washed herself and her hair, then she took the extendable showerhead and rinsed herself, also rinsing Bucky and finally relaxing back, with a leg on the edge of the tub.

Bucky ran a finger over the soft skin and marveled at how smooth and white it was. Domnica looked nothing like the dames back in his time. The closest term of comparison he had was Steve, after he had changed. She wasn’t as big and as broad-shouldered as he was, but the shapes were the same. Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe modern people really liked Steve’s looks and got surgeries to look like him (Bucky had seen it was possible now). Maybe he just saw Steve in everyone who was the smallest bit friendly.

  
Bucky remembered a time when he could make women melt with one look. But that was back then, when he felt on top of the world and unstoppable. He knew he looked good back then too, with his sharply ironed trousers and three piece suits, and his army uniform. These days, he did not have the luxury to dress like he wanted to. He had to be a shadow, a nothing that everyone overlooked.  
  
Still, Domnica had noticed him and she knew everything, or almost everything. She had also made her own opinions, seeing right through the media lies. And she so clearly wanted him.  
  
“Won’t I get you pregnant?” He asked, suddenly, looking at the bathwater between them. “If we…”  
  
“It’s taken care of. There are a lot of other methods besides condoms these days. I wear an implant that releases hormones in my blood.”  
  
Bucky was agape. He never ceased to wonder at how advanced science and tech had become. Also, people were a lot more relaxed about their bodies and being naked with one another, in some ways. In others, they had become even more conservative than in the 1940s. “What would you like us to do?” He asked, genuinely curious.  
  
“Everything. I’d love you to show me all there is to try with what parts we have.” She said. “But no hurting each other for now, alright? No spanking, choking, calling each other degrading words. Some people are into that; me, not so much.”  
  
“Show you? But doesn’t everyone start fucking at twelve in this age?” Bucky asked. He’d seen cases of children having children on the news, and arranged marriages between old men and little girls and it had made him sick to his stomach.  
  
“Most people do… I’m not fighting temptation, though… I’m just looking for the right temptation.”  
  
The way she said those words and their meaning made a shiver of pleasure course through Bucky and he felt warmed from within. For the first time since he’d escaped Hydra, he really felt attractive, despite his monstrous metal arm and his extensive scarring. Plus, Domnica was very choosy of her experiences and seemed to only do what she wanted. And she wanted Bucky.

“How much time do we have before the party starts?” He asked her, moving closer.  
  
“It’s a club night, we can get there whenever we want. I’d say ten-ish, though.”  
  
“It’s enough.” He said and leaned over her, closing the gap between them and brushing his lips against hers.  
  
She muffled a gasp and pulled him close, folding a knee between his legs and focusing on really kissing Bucky back. Her hands roamed his sides, his hips, his thighs before settling on his butt, kneading.  
  
Bucky’s head was spinning and there was a void in the pit of his belly, his breaths coming in irregular bouts. He felt every part of him jolt back to life, including the metal arm, which he used to reach between Domnica’s legs and pull the plug on the water in the tub.  
  
Their kisses became deeper and hungrier as Bucky lifted Domnica in his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, getting out of the tub.  
  
“Where to?” He asked her, following her directions to her room.  
  
Her bed was huge and very high, a four-poster wonder with veils around it, something Bucky had only fantasized about before. There was no way he could climb on that high bed without falling on top of Domnica and possibly injuring her, so he first lay her down onto the cloud-soft surface, then he climbed next to her.  
  
“Is my metal arm allowed to play along?” He asked, rather awkwardly. He had gotten used to it, but he knew that most people still found it disgusting, at least because of its origins if not for what it looked like and what destruction it could cause. Bucky also knew how gentle the metal arm could be, but he did not want to risk her feeling threatened by it.  
  
Domnica grinned.  
  
“The metal arm is a highlight. I don’t know if you follow pop culture, but it’s become sort of a fetish. It’s harder to find someone NOT turned on by it, so be informed that I want all of you.”  
  
Bucky nodded, reclining and looking at Domnica, who was lying in bed on her back, with her hands under her head and her legs spread. She really had no reason to hide her body, everything about her was firm, smooth and tight.  
  
Bucky looked along her body and raised his eyebrows at her piercings. She had four, all nicely adorned by small, sparkly jewels. He had seen navel piercings before and he found them cute, because he liked to think that maybe girls wore them to feel pretty and for themselves. But… he reached for one of her nipples and ran a fingertip over it, gently.  
  
“Don’t these hurt?” He asked.  
  
“A bit… sometimes. But they hurt in a nice way. I just love how they look and how they feel.” She gave back, letting him touch and explore at his own pace. “Same with the downstairs one. For no one else’s benefit but mine.”  
  
“I’ve never seen any in real life until now… they are so pretty.” Bucky said, leaning over her to kiss her deeply, nipping at her lower lip and really claiming every corner of her mouth as his. He slipped on top of her, so he could touch her with both hands, as gently as he could muster.

Both his hands were busy caressing her breasts, cupping them and gently kneading like she told him she liked. He set about covering her in kisses, tasting every square inch of her skin from her lips, her cheeks, her neck, her collarbones, pausing briefly to pay extra attention to her nipples before moving lower.  
  
He watched her carefully, amazed that she already seemed to enjoy him so much, then continued on his downward path.  
  
“May I use my mouth on you?” He asked, fully expecting a no.  
  
Back in the day, women played by other rules. All the girls wanted to go out with Bucky Barnes because he was the best kisser and the most fun on dates. Kissing, groping, humping in the dark were the usual, and sometimes, if the mood was right, a girl would let him finger her while on one of the rides at Coney Island or at the movies… but mothers told their daughters that the rule was “wedding first, christening after” and good boys didn’t take liberties. But that didn’t mean that Bucky’s fantasies lacked creativity.  
  
“YES! Preferably soon, too.” She told him, eagerly sliding a pillow under her hips and spreading her legs further.  
  
Bucky licked his lips and brought them down to the smooth folds, nipping, gently parting her and slipping his tongue deeper, looking up at her heatedly. Now he was beginning to feel alive.  
  
She reached for his flesh hand and interlaced their fingers, also making eye contact and letting him see she was enjoying his efforts. At some point, she started playing with her nipple jewels and rocking her hips to bring herself closer to his sensationally talented mouth.  
  
Now she would never be able to look at his lips without feeling them on her and she was more than OK with that development.  
  
Bucky was making pleased sounds, turned on by her willingness to let him try everything and by how greedily she wrung every drop of pleasure from the moment. She was incredibly wet for him and the very taste of her made him want to reach further, take more.  
  
He used a metal finger to circle her entrance and to lightly press against it, finding her relaxed and easily opening for him. She moaned and brought one of her legs on his shoulder, folding the other under herself, which gave him more access to her depths and also let Bucky see how much she was enjoying this.  
  
“Damn, boy.” She said, her voice deep and raspy, watching him needily. “Get me off like this. Look at me.”

Bucky had just figured out a way to suck her clit by circling his tongue around the jewel, swiping over, then flattening it beneath, going up again while two of his fingers moved inside her, massaging the thin edges of her entrance. He was loving this, thinking he’d need to catch up on seventy plus years of being denied if life ever gave him some slack. 

  
He saw the exact moment he tipped her over the edge, her eyes darkening, her lower lip caught behind her teeth, the hand holding his tightening its grip as the most graphic, dirtiest Romanian curses slipped through her lips.  
  
Bucky kept his lips on her all the time while the soft spasms lasted, feeling dizzy and feverish himself, but still unable to do anything but watch her.  
  
Domnica suddenly sat up and pulled him in a slow kiss, nuzzling him and wrapping her arms around him even as he still had his fingers in her.  
  
“It’s your turn… it looks urgent, too.” She said, wrapping a small hand around him, fingers splayed.  
  
“No,” he said, abruptly removing her hand from his cock. “That doesn’t feel good.”  
  
She looked down at his lap, at the many twin scars, many sets of two circular burn marks, some smudged and superficial, others more precise and deeper.  
  
_Cattle prod._ _  
_  
She panicked at the realisation, but kept her calm. She wanted him to focus on taking pleasure, not running from pain for now.  
  
“What do you want to do?” She asked.  
  
“I want inside you. Slowly, so it doesn’t hurt.” He said, expecting to be slapped and shown the door.  
  
She nodded in response, trying her best not to cringe at the reason why Bucky didn’t want to be touched like that.  As soon as she’d asked him what he wanted, he had been able to plainly say it.  
  
“Alright… but I think it will be nicer for both of us if you’re not on top of me. Lie down on your side, I’ll show you what I mean.”  
  
Bucky did as he was asked, propping his head up on his metal arm and waiting.  
  
Domnica slid herself right next to him, lifting a leg and draping it over his hips, exposing herself.  
  
“Mmh, good idea.” Bucky said, pulling her even closer with his free arm and caressing her features gently with his fingertips before letting his hand slide lower down her body, over her breasts and her belly.  
  
“You can go on,” she said. “I’m ready. You won’t hurt me, OK? Right now I just need you to touch me more.”  
  
He still spent a few moments dipping his fingers in her and making sure she was really as relaxed and open as he needed her to be, distracting her with kisses. Soon, he lined himself with her entrance and carefully pushed in. The feeling was overwhelming. He couldn’t even remember the times before.  
  
He held Domnica close, his kisses getting deeper and needier as he bottomed out and started a slow rhythm of rocking his hips into hers, earning himself her soft moans and gasps.  
  
“You’re perfect,” he whispered against her lips, smiling. Everything could end now, he would no longer object to whatever fate the rulers of the world dealt him. He would have liked to see Steve once again and maybe tell him all the things he had buried inside himself for seventy years. But he seldom got what he wanted and that was alright now.  
  
“Takes one to know one,” she said, closing her eyes briefly. “I’m close,” she added once she opened her eyes again.  
  
Although feeling her come around him was maddeningly good, Bucky managed to last through it, deciding to change their position. He shifted in such a way that he could kneel between her legs without leaving her body, putting her arms around his neck and lifting her up, supported on the tops of his thighs and on his hands.  
  
This was closer, hotter, and demanded more urgency. Bucky gave it, bouncing his very willing partner on himself and guiding her hips to grind on him. She looked stoned with pleasure, holding on and muttering obscene things. She definitely had nothing to compare his performance to, but the stuff she moaned in his ear or against the damp skin of his neck was so graphic and arousing.  
  
Bucky had never heard his name laced with so much pleasure, nor had he been praised so generously and so in detail. At some point she slipped into another language, one that didn’t even seem of this world, but Bucky did not fear or question it, only stopping to note how beautiful it was.  
  
He gave her every last drop of his energy and skill, all the while careful not to squeeze too hard, scratch, push, or hurt her in any way. Her skin was butter-soft and tasted so good to him, he could not stop himself from mapping her with his lips wherever her could reach.  
  
Bucky brought his lover off as many times as it took until she told him she wanted to feel him come inside her and he obliged. It was his turn to be spurred on into giving up his every last drop by her fingers digging into the tight muscles of his butt and back, faintly scratching and gripping tightly.  
  
Once he felt her breath return to normal, he considerately pulled out, laying her down onto the soft expanse of the bed and sitting back on his calves, _looking_ . There’s a bit of swelling, she’s glistening with their mixed juices, but there’s no blood.  
  
_Good job, Soldier._ _  
_  
Why now, Bucky pleaded with the memory, freezing in place completely.  
  
But soon, he’s enveloped in warmth, in that golden light he’s felt before, unexplained and sudden and Domnica’s smaller body is somehow wrapped around him, shielding him from the darkness inside him.  
  
They spent long moments holding each other on the bed, until Bucky realised Domnica would soon feel gross from what he’d put inside her trickling down and out of her. He lifted her in his arms and took her back to the bathroom, starting the shower and getting in there with her, beginning to clean her with a look of adoration on his features.

His fingers were sloshing the last remains of his seed out of her when he heard himself blurt, out of nowhere, something he’d never even dared to recall until then. 

  
“They tried to neuter me like a dog, they prepared me for the surgery, they told me what was going to happen and I was so afraid. So alone.”  
  
She nodded and rested a hand on his chest, over the heartbeat.  
  
“But on that day, something went wrong. The entire base was wiped out. The next time I heard my activation code words, they were being read by a new voice. I was briefly told I had changed handlers and that we were in the USA.”  
  
He looked up to see the effect of his words on her, and he thought he saw a shadow move across Domnica’s eyes, for a fraction of a second he caught a glimpse of something terrible and immeasurably powerful, before she blinked and it was gone, replaced by the quiet and quick acceptance she always showed him.  
  
“Once your name is cleared, you should hunt them all down. Torture the living. Open the graves of the dead, salt and burn their remains. Piss in the ashes. They had no right to do any of the things they did. No one deserved it less than you.”  
  
She was right, of course. He had always been the good Winter Soldier. The one who complied, who was always effective and never stepped out of line. There had been others, but those were unhinged, psychotic, beyond control. Scrapped. In the end, even Hydra had had to settle for the reality that only he had inside him what it took to make the serum, the enhancements, the brainwashing work.  
  
Bucky was not shocked at Domnica’s words. Romanians were a strange people, with traits he could relate to. They bowed, complied and suffered in silence - until one day they snapped in ways that made the demons in Hell shudder in fear.  
  
“I might.” He offered, reaching for a towel and switching the shower off, drying them both. He then looked at the electronic clock on the corner shelf. “Just in time for being fashionably late at the club.”  
  
She smiled and followed him out of the tub, going to pick some clothes for herself while he put together something as well.  
  
Bucky put on a white henley and black jeans, waiting for Domnica to emerge. She wore white too, with sequins and polka dot tulle. A real doll, life size.  
  
She even had a white faux leather glove for him, for his metal arm, and he accepted it gratefully.  
  
The club was packed, but comfortably so, and Bucky easily mapped several exit routes in his mind, just in case. But for the entire evening, he saw only people who were there to dance, drink and hook up, not sparing him a glance.  
  
He needed a bit to adapt and fit in as he quickly found out that modern dance music was something completely different from what he was used to. But he could get behind the semi-darkness, the disco lights, the swaying rhythms and the rather explicit movements involved in dancing.  
  
Domnica had no problem with any of the things around them, going to the bar and getting them drinks, finding them a table and then pulling Bucky to the dancefloor.  
  
She began dancing around him, unselfconsciously and freely, holding his hand or letting go so she could circle him, smiling all the time, now and then leaning in close for a kiss.  
  
Bucky was overwhelmed, but soon the music started to seep into his bones too, and he got into it, as though he’d been dancing like this since he had learned to walk.  
  
A new song came on and Bucky felt personally spoken to, a feeling of warmth spreading all through him.  
  
_Don’t you worry, don’t you worry child, see heaven’s got a plan for you_ _  
_  
There was also pain and weariness in Bucky. Thinking that all he’d been through had a purpose didn’t make it easier to live with.

Suddenly, the DJ moved on to another song, and Domnica bounced around Bucky. 

  
“Dis my song!” She said, slipping an arm around Bucky’s waist and taking his gloved hand in hers, leading him across their patch of dancefloor.  
  
Bucky got the steps and the groove of it right away, he’d always been good at learning choreographed moves, and he let Domnica’s enthusiasm rub off on him. Soon, he was leading her and now and then they paused to move in complete synchronicity, as though this was what they did every day.  
  
_I can feel my heart beating, ‘cause you make me feel like I’m alive again_ _  
_  
Bucky felt suspended in a blissful place outside of space and time, on that dancefloor, with that song playing, at the moment unable to tell where he ended and Domnica began.

But, like all good things, it didn’t last long enough and soon he returned to his normal perception. 

  
He tried to cling on to the moment by pulling Domnica flush against him and kissing her for long moments while his arms tightened around her.

 

***  
  
  
The next day, Bucky woke up alone in Domnica’s bed at her place. Well, she wasn’t there, but all the cats were sleeping curled up around him on the blanket.

He oozed out from under the covers so as not to disturb the sleeping cats and went to find her. 

She was on the grass, barefoot, wearing tights and a sports bra and doing a series of graceful and fluid movements that Bucky could not quite place. She soon became aware of him standing there and watching her, so she interrupted her routine and walked over to him.  
  
Bucky let the feeling of his bare feet in the dewy grass sink in, so he could lock it away for when it all went to shit again. He found it impossible not to smile as the simple feeling of being grounded reached a place far inside him that he’d even forgotten existed.  
  
Soon, they went to the kitchen, where Domnica whipped up some delicious pancakes filled with nougat cream and bananas, serving them with berries on the side. She then went to her garage in the back of the yard and took out an Ikea set of foldable table plus two chairs and set it on the ceramic tile deck between the garage and the grassy part of the yard.  
  
“Why are you doing this? You know I have nothing to give. I can’t be what you think you might see in me. I will never be someone’s husband… or father…” Bucky said, sitting on one of the white chairs while she loaded some pancakes onto his plate.  
  
“Why does Steve go against 117 nations and a handful of enhanced individuals to keep you safe?” Domnica gave back. “I know it’s too soon, too abrupt and you’re used to only getting shit from people. I don’t need you to do anything, be anything. What I feel and what I think is enough reason for all of this.”  
  
Bucky considered her words for a while, in silence, letting her attack a pancake while he fluidly reached over, pulling her in his lap and wrapping her legs around him. He watched her finish the pancake and put two nougat-smeared fingers on his lips. He opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around the fingers, sucking on them and licking all the nougat off of them.  
  
He saw her pupils dilate and her eyes became a deep, dark blue before she pressed her fingers down onto his tongue, with just the slightest pressure. Bucky was surprised to feel an overpowering desire to entrust himself to her and please her in every way she asked of him. Who had taught her that?! She was just a child compared to him, and yet she was in complete control. Just like Steve, back in the days when he was a sickly, skinny guy. Bucky was stronger and bigger, but Steve was always effortlessly in the lead.  
  
“Hear me out,” she said, certain she had his undivided attention. “The whole world is going to come after you. But,” she paused, taking her fingers out of his mouth and softly caressing his lips with them before taking his mouth in a deep, controlling kiss, “not only will you pull through, but you will also get Steve back. If, and only if you do exactly as I say.”  
  
Bucky was starting to suspect this girl currently straddling his thighs was more than the average Romanian cutie.  
  
“You can doubt me, or you can live, be reunited with Steve and heal.” She said. “The choice is easy. Do you know the story of Orpheus and Eurydice?”  
  
Bucky shook his head. Steve most likely knew it, but not him. He hadn’t had the time to read as much as he’d wanted, before life had turned into long hours of hard work and later, war.  
  
“Orpheus goes to save his lover, Eurydice, from Hades. He travels to the lord of the Underworld and asks for his lover’s life back. And he gets it, on one condition. He must walk ahead of her and lead her out of the realm of shadows and never doubt she is behind him, never look back until they are safely among the living. If he does turn, if he does look, she will return to the shadows forever. The story ends tragically, because the fucker doesn’t trust Hades, he turns to make sure Eurydice is behind him, and then he loses her forever.”  
  
Bucky nodded. She had not hurt him or betrayed him at all so far, he had no reason to believe she would betray him. But he still didn’t know how she was going to make all that happen.    
  
“You’re going to return to your apartment and talk to Steve. He’ll be waiting there. You will let him help you and you will let things unfold until I come find you. Understood?”  
  
He nodded.  
  
“So you know Steve?” He asked.  
  
She nodded, her eyebrows knitted together in a frown. “It’s sooner than I thought. You must return to your home. I’ll drop you off at the market. I have somewhere to be.”  
  
  
***

I thought of abandoning my flesh vessel to go and speak to Steve, but there was no time. Fuck free will, it’s so inconvenient at times. People changing the future constantly with their shitty choices - guaranteed an eternal pain in the ass. 

  
So I summoned Kirikiel and asked him to help me, to take me to Steve.  
  
He did show up, but refused to help me.  
  
“Father is displeased. You’ve let him down again, Lucifer.” He said. “You’ve descended into flesh for a mortal and you abandoned your station.”  
  
“It was what I felt was right! And yes, I selfishly craved to know his touch.” I replied. “But isn’t this what the devil is all about? Temptation, falling, complicated choices?”  
  
“... to do them unto mortals! We’re angels, we’re not supposed to fall!”  
  
“<<Fallen angel>> is literally my tagline. Are you telling me it’s OK to be a fallen angel when the humans want to vilify me, but when I want to do something even remotely good, to right a wrong, it doesn’t go?”  
  
“His decision is final. You’ve been locked out of Hell. The burden of ruling has fallen unto me now!”  
  
I realized I had been royally betrayed by my most trusted lieutenant. All things considered, I was proud of him. I had taught him well. And I knew for sure Father had nothing to do with the decision.  
  
“Oh don’t worry, you’ll still be immortal, and watch all those you love die around you,” Kirikiel said. “And you will keep your angelic powers… but you won’t be able to influence events as you see fit. And you definitely won’t be ruling over Hell. That’s my job now. Since I’m busy, you can find your own fucking way to Steve Rogers.”  
  
With those words, he disappeared in a black cloud of brimstone.  
  
Fuck him.  
  
I assumed the form Steve had first seen me in, then went looking for him.  
  
I found him on the roof of Bucky’s building, with his other best friend.  
  
“What the hell is that?!” Sam exclaimed, pointing at me as I softly landed near them.  
  
“That’s an ally.” Steve said. He looked so stoic in his stars and stripes uniform.  
  
“Captain, your friend is innocent of the crimes he is being accused of. And I know that because he’s been with me while they have been committed. Please. Stay by his side. Believe in his innocence, because he himself does not.”  
  
“Why are you doing this for us?” Steve asked. “I prayed so many times in the past, and no one, no one ever answered.”  
  
“Let’s just say I grew a heart.” I answered. “It used to be my mission to sanction and execute those who had been judged and found guilty, in this life and the next. But what has befallen your friend Bucky has been a terrible, terrible mistake which I felt compelled to fix.”  
  
“I thought angels couldn’t make this sort of calls,” Sam interjected.  
  
“Well, until recently I enjoyed special privileges. And I’ve always done what I wanted, although an overgrown sense of duty has kept me from intervening sooner. I’ve been… sadistic to say the least, and I regret that. I was by Bucky’s side when Hydra got him back. I heard his cries in my halls when they tortured him. And all this time I thought it was not my place to judge, to intervene. But, as time went on and no one else did, as everyone saw only the Winter Soldier except for Steve here, who still prayed for his friend every night… I knew I had to do something.”  
  
“Wait, but if you say you’re not supposed to intervene… aren’t there repercussions? Won’t you suffer if you help us?” Steve asked, bless his compassionate soul.

“There have already been consequences. I am confined to Earth,” I said. “In a human form. Forever. Which means I cannot use the form you see me in for long.”  
  
“Thank you,” Steve said and… hugged me, despite my daunting appearance. “You said you’ve been with Bucky? How is he? He’s scared, isn’t he?”  
  
“Yes, he is, but he is also very brave. And very…soft. I haven’t been completely open with you. I developed a strong desire to protect Bucky over the years… which lately has turned to lust. It was the catalyst of my choosing to descend into flesh.”  
  
Steve gasped and then nodded.  
  
“Well, I did pray that he finds a friend to hold him through the dark times.” He said, shrugging. “If he’s happy, I’m happy.”  
  
“It’s time, Steve. Go save your friend,” I said and spread my wings, ready to take off.  
  
“Wait, before you go, what is your name? Which angel are you? Gabriel? Michael?” Steve asked.  
  
I hesitated. There was no time to weave an intricate way to avoid the straight answer so I just went for the truth.  
  
“It’s Lucifer. Bucky knows me as Domnica.” I said and vanished.  
  
  
***  
  
  
The cold Siberian wind was biting into the wounded flesh of his face, but Captain America was determined to help his friend, who might not even survive very long after the extensive trauma he had sustained.  
  
Under the mask, Steve Rogers was crying, his tears freezing on the rims of his eyelids, the ice crystals prickling his eyes. It was unfair that he had gotten his friend back, only to lose him so cruelly.  
  
He had never thought that Tony had it in him to be so ruthless and cruel. How could Tony have called him his friend when he had demanded that Steve stop fighting him and watch as Iron man executed a defenseless, wounded adversary.  
  
Steve had no idea how he was going to help Bucky out there in that white wasteland. The quinjet was not starting, the repulsor core having frozen stiff while they battled inside the Hydra compound.  
  
T’Challa had already left, strapping a rambling Zemo in the back of his aircraft, but not before telling Steve he was welcome, together with his friends, to take refuge in Wakanda. It was the least he could do, Steve thought, after nearly murdering Bucky twice, in cold blood and without asking for evidence of the crime he accused him of.  
  
He had almost lost hope, having even contemplated going back to get Stark and begging him to help. But Stark was just going to keep things worse, even if he did help them. He would turn Bucky in to Ross and his hellhole of a prison.  
  
“Lucifer, if you can hear me, I could really use a hand right now. I don’t care if this is the end of the line for me, just please, please save Bucky if you can.” Steve prayed out loud, looking over the white expanse.  
  
Nothing happened for a long time, the winter around them silent and menacing. Steve was about to lose faith, when Bucky groaned and looked up at him. “Just wait,” He said.  
  
Every moment they spent in the cold could be deadly to Bucky, with his massive injuries. Steve wrapped Bucky in his arms and began to lull him gently, unsure as to why and how that helped.  
  
Soon, he heard a knock on the quinjet’s fuselage. He opened the ramp and saw the unlikeliest of sights.  
  
A tall and short-haired girl, dressed in white winter gear.  
  
“You called.” She said, approaching and having a look at Bucky’s injuries. “I cannot help with those, but I can get us out of here. You can fly this thing, yes?”  
  
“Are you coming with us?To Wakanda?”  
  
“Yes. I think  I can be of help there.”  She said. “I still have one use of my Hellfire. After that, I won’t be able to use my angel form. But I think it’s for the better.”  
  
“Domnica?” Bucky asked from his spot, lying down on a lowered quinjet seat. “I was good. I did as you said.”  
  
“Yes, yes you were, you did. Is it like I promised?”  
  
“Better. Steve’s here. And you.”    
  
She went to the repulsor core and used her hands to summon a ball of white energy, a bit like Steve had seen with Wanda, and she directed the energy blast into the core, which defrosted in a matter of seconds.  
  
The AI of the quinjet gave them an update of its systems, the artificial female voice announcing that “power at 5000%, repulsor active. Runtime: to be calculated. Would you like to set the course, Captain Rogers?”  
  
She then rummaged around for the medical supplies, cleaning Bucky’s face of caked blood and having a closer look at the shredded circuits in his arm stump. “This sealed itself, but it needs binding until we get you a new arm,” she said.  
  
Her plan had been to grow Bucky a new flesh arm, before Kirikiel had told Lucifer he no longer had his full powers. Now every use of angelic powers would be limited and weaker. Bucky would have to come to terms with only receiving a new bionic arm. She knew he would, because he didn’t even know there had been the possibility for more, but inside her, Lucifer, in his pride, was hating himself for having screwed that up.  
  
Steve took his seat in the front, but not before coming over to where Domnica was leaning against the backrest of her seat and holding Bucky against her chest, comfortably resting. Steve gave Bucky a soft kiss on the lips, caressing his face and then moving on to Domnica and giving her a grateful kiss as well.  
  
“Thank you, Lucifer,” he said. “For everything.”  
  
“I told you. Bucky is worth everything.” She gave back.  
  
Bucky looked very horrified for a few seconds and turned his gaze to Steve.  
  
“Steve, I fucked the devil,” he said, looking up at Domnica. “Sorry, it’s daunting.”  
  
“You lived, didn’t you?” She asked, giving him a knowing grin. “And once we get to Wakanda, I will find a way to get the Soldier out of you..”  
  
“What, you’re a scientist now, too?” Steve asked from his spot.  
  
“I do know a thing or two about possession, Captain.” She answered.  
  
Bucky found himself laughing softly, relief, pain, fear and mirth mixing in his brain.  
  
“It would be really nice if you two really liked each other,” he said, looking up. “We could be a thing.”  
  
Soon, exhaustion and pain got the better of him and he dozed off. Domnica made sure he was well strapped into the seat before she joined Steve in the front.  
  
“So, you got locked out of Hell?” Steve asked. “That’s gotta be bad.”  
  
“Oh, don’t worry.I have everything I need here with me.” She said, looking into his eyes, then letting her look drift towards Bucky.  
  
“Look, I gotta ask. Your looks… why?”  
  
“I chose something I knew Bucky would like.” She gave back. “I never got any results appearing to people with horns and trident.”  
  
“Well, it’s a good look,” Steve said and raised an eyebrow before cracking a smile. “I can live with all this.”  
  
“You might as well, because we’re stuck together for a while.” She gave back.  
  
Steve just gave her his soft and warm smile, while one of his hands rested on her thigh.  
  
“I’m grateful. And game.” He said, watching her. There was no trace of Captain America in that look.


End file.
